Festival
by azizah
Summary: Obi Wan is accused of malicious mischief and Qui Gon must decide what to do.


_Author's note: For those of you following One Path, thanks somuch for your kind reviews, theyare encouraging. I am still hard at work on it and hope to post more chapters soon. This is a little story I did for a Halloween fanfiction challenge..._

_&_

Qui-Gon Jinn stood patiently, his arms folded into the sleeves of his cloak, a look of rapt attention on his face as he waited for the Prime Minister to finish speaking. To a casual observer, no, even to an acute observer he appeared to be intensely interested in the man's every word.

To his apprentice, the height of Qui-Gon's arms across his chest and the slight hunch in his shoulders would have betrayed his master's inattention at a glance. But Obi-Wan's eyes were firmly fixed on the floor as he stood silently at Qui-Gon's side, his own posture reading remorse and resignation.

_Oh, how the man went on_, Qui-Gon thought, ignoring the urge to stretch his limbs and reaching out with his mind instead. He was immediately met by Obi-Wan's distress. His young padawan was loath to disappoint him and his anxious, wordless apology hung in the air. Qui-Gon did not waver. His feelings on the matter were undecided and he chose, in typical Jedi fashion, to wait.

Obi-Wan would survive a few more minutes of uncertainty, he had certainly survived worse.

The Prime Minister's anger and indignation rose and fell like cresting waves as he launched into each new tirade of the indignity he had suffered at the hands of Qui-Gon's thirteen year old apprentice.

Qui-Gon reached out further with his feelings, beyond the confines of the room, through the grand palace and the gardens beyond. Nothing stirred in the approaching dawn. He sensed no evil looming, no impending disaster and was amused at the brief tinge of regret he felt at the lack of prospect. He chided himself, did he really wish for some necessary action as a reprieve from the decision he would soon be required to make?

The decision. At first glance it seemed a minor one in the grand scheme of the galaxy. No lives were at stake. It did not involve disease, famine, war, or the survival of an entire planet.

He had only to decide how to discipline his padawan for an act that caused no real harm, except to the pride of a self important man.

Nothing really at all in the grand scheme of things, if the man had not been such an insufferable fool, and if Qui-Gon did not cling to his principals in even the smallest of things.

…

The Jedi had been summoned ten days ago to the plant Cah'oon to resolve trade differences with a neighboring planet that had threatened to lead to war. Early in the negotiations Qui-Gon had realized that the neighboring planets harbored only minor differences and little ill will. A situation easily resolved with the help of a mediator, had it not been for the arrogance and ambition of Cah'oon's Prime Minister.

Long days had passed slowly as the negotiations were delayed again and again by the Prime Minister's self important speeches and unreasonable demands. Qui-Gon could sense no real empathy in the man for the people under his rule. He cared for little beyond his importance and his title.

Today had been the final day as stipulated in the existing treaty in which a new treaty could be enacted without disruption of existing trade practices. It was imperative that a new agreement be reached by midnight tonight. But still the Prime Minister effrontery continued and negotiations did not progress.

It was a day no different from the nine previous days except in one regard. Today was the day of the festival.

Cah'oon was famous for its autumn festival. A centuries old celebration held on the night of the first full moon of the harvest season.

The inhabitants of the planet, both young and old would dress in the ancient garb of their ancestors and wander the streets at night in honor of the dead. The great heroes of the past were the favorites among the children and the costumes could be both expensive and elaborate. In recent generations, custom had broadened to include great heroes and other characters, famous and infamous, from across the galaxy.

There was music and dancing, plenty of the spicy food that the Cah'oons loved and Golg, the planet's notable distilled beverage. Children traveled in hoards, filling baskets with candy and coins that people would fling at them.

Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan's delight when he had told him they would be traveling to Cah'oon around the time of the festival. Even in the Jedi temple on faraway Courasant, children talked of the famous Festival of the Dead. Obi-Wan had looked forward with the enthusiasm of the child he still was to the festivities. But that had been before the days of tedious negotiation had taken their toll.

The day of the festival had dawned and the delegation was no nearer to reaching a settlement. The negotiations dragged on hampered by outrageous demands from the Prime Minister. It soon became apparent they would still be at it well into the night, missing out on the festivities. Obi-Wan struggled to hide his disappointment

It was then that an amazing thing happened. The Prime Minister was called away to oversee some last minute preparations for the official state pageant. It seemed he had arranged for players to parade in costume as himself at various stages of his career.

This at least had drawn a wry smile from Obi-Wan. "I thought they only dressed up as dead people," he had whispered to Qui-Gon in mock innocence.

In the Prime Minister's absence real progress was made, differences were hastily mended and difficulties smoothed over. Facilitated not a little Qui-Gon believed, by a desire to be done with this tiresome business and be free to enjoy the approaching festivities.

A final draft of the treaty had been quickly patched together and ratified, awaiting only the Prime Minister's signature the following day. Qui-Gon had little doubt he would sign it as it gave the Prime Minister far reaching powers of discretionary enforcement, a major sticking point for most of the delegate members.

It had been a trying week. Qui-Gon had wanted nothing more than to spend a quiet evening alone in the palace garden. Qui-Gon had to laugh at the look on Obi-Wan's face when he had given his padawan leave to enjoy the festival on his own.

Obi-Wan could not believe that Qui-Gon would prefer a solitary evening to the renowned Festival of the Dead. He normally hated to leave his master, but a searching look of Qui-Gon's face confirmed that an evening alone was really his master's preference. So with only a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan bade his master good night and rushed off to join in the revelry.

Qui-Gon had still been in the garden, well past the meridian of the night when they had sent for him. He had been ushered into this room to face an angry Prime Minister and an embarrassed apprentice and they had been here ever since. The tale of his padawan's crime taking on new proportion under the Prime Minister's telling of it.

Apparently the Prime Minister's personal residence had been pelted with oblama eggs, not an uncommon occurrence during festival. And Obi-Wan had been found in the vicinity in possession of a basket of eggs.

Qui-Gon did not really believe that Obi-Wan had been directly involved in the incident, no matter how frustrated he had been during the preceding week. Obi-Wan was well aware of what was at stake in these negotiations and took his role as Jedi mediator seriously. He would not put all they had worked for in jeopardy for a moment of furtive vindictiveness.

No, this act would be out of character for the boy. In Qui-Gon's experience, his padawan's rare defiance was always direct.

None of it made sense. Had Obi-Wan really been intent on subversion, he would hardly have allowed himself to be caught so easily. Although still a boy, he was a Jedi.

And Obi-Wan had not protested his innocence or offered any explanation for his involvement, suggesting to Qui-Gon some misguided noble attempt at a cover-up, although whom he could be protecting was beyond Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon sighed, if his padawan was determined to take the blame for someone else's actions there was nothing he could do to stop him. Though listening to the Prime Minister drone on and on, he rather hoped Obi-Wan had gotten at least one good shot with an egg.

The room had become uncharacteristically quiet drawing Qui-Gon's attention back to the moment at hand.

The Prime Minister was looking at Qui-Gon expectantly. He waited eagerly for Qui-Gon to administer a punishment that would put Obi-Wan in his place, another confirmation of his own self worth. He would only be happy if the punishment were difficult at worst and humiliating at best.

Obi-Wan was also looking at Qui-Gon expectantly. The fact that Obi-Wan was prepared for as much or worse did not make the decision any easier for his master.

Dawn was approaching and their ship for the return trip to Courasant would be arriving shortly. But for some reason Qui-Gon hesitated. He had no heart for doling out punishment that he did not believe in, even to diffuse to potentially disastrous political situation.

The Prime Minister waited. Obi-Wan waited. Qui-Gon waited as well, although for what he hardly knew.

Suddenly the door burst open. A palace aid scurried forward and delivered the bad news in an eager rush. "Your Excellency, they have defiled your quarters again. Come quickly, it is all in ruins. Everything is completely covered with fresher paper."

The Prime Minister was livid. His face turned bright red and then pale and then red again as he struggled to spit out words "This is an outrage! Don't they know who I am? Call together the full delegation, I demand a full and immediate investigation."

Without a word to the Jedi, the Prime Minister spun on his heal and hurled himself out the door, nearly trampling the aid who managed to flattened himself against the wall in the nick of time. There was a commotion outside the room and the aid made a hasty retreat letting the door slam behind him with a bang.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were suddenly alone in the room. All emotion seemed to have been swept from the room with the exit of the Prime Minister.

"Master, I'm sorry. I can explain." Obi-Wan began in a rush.

Qui-Gon put up a hand to stop him. "Padawan…" he began but was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

The door opened and in walked one of the delegation representatives. One of the few who had stood up to the Prime Minister with gentle reason and compassion for the people caught on both sides of the dispute.

She bowed low. "Master Jedi, your ship has arrived. I would be honored to escort you and your apprentice to the landing platform."

She walked forward to Qui-Gon and placed her hand on his arm, giving him a warm smile. "I also wish to express gratitude where I see gratitude has been lacking. I thank you on behalf of my people for your patience and guidance through this trying time."

She reached for Obi-Wan's arm as well. "And your young apprentice has proved to be a remarkable judge of character for one so young. He has shown us that when we come together with a common purpose our petty differences bear no weight. We are indebted to him"

Obi-Wan looked at his master and then back at the delegate in confusion, he was unsure how to respond as she seemed to be laughing at him.

Before he could think of what to say she turned and hurried toward the door calling over her shoulder, "You had best gather your things and come quickly. Your pilot is a wookie and it would not do to keep him waiting."

Qui-Gon turned and placed his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder "Come padawan. It is time to go home."

"But Master, what about the Prime Minister?"

"I am sure the Prime Minister will soon have reason to forget whatever your involvement was in this evening's affair."

With a nod of his head Qui-Gon called Obi-Wan's attention to the trail of fresher paper attached the delegate's boot, streaming behind her as she walked.

The End


End file.
